


For a Good Time Call

by shenshengdegaowan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, PSO Castiel, Phone Sex, Shameless Smut, Teacher Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenshengdegaowan/pseuds/shenshengdegaowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Dean's never been one for paying to get off. Until he hears Castiel's voice, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a Good Time Call

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a phone sex operator and I've never called one, so let me know if I made any mistakes. Thanks for reading!

#### Chapter 1: Guess I'm supposed to ask you what you're wearing, then, huh?

 

“Heavenly Flirts, America’s favorite adult phone service. Please hold until dispatch can take your call.”

Sitting on his sofa, buzzed, horny, and watching the closing credits to The Wrath of Khan, Dean didn’t know what made him dial that number.

It could have had something to do with the fact that it was nearing ten o’clock on a Tuesday and he was bored out of his mind. Normally he’d be grading papers, but school was out for summer. Sammy had some fancy lawyering to do in the morning and was too good to crack open a few beers with his own brother. He couldn’t even plan the destruction of Moondoor’s enemies as Charlie was halfway through a hot date. He was on his third beer, which left swinging by the Roadhouse and getting some action of his own out of the equation.

If he was going to be philosophical about this, Dean _might_ admit to himself that one night stands weren't doing it for him anymore. He was tired of the awkward morning after conversations and the men and women who didn’t look quite as appealing as they had the night before.

The biggest shocker was that Busty Asian Beauties had also lost appeal. He wanted something more than recorded moaning, something a little more tangible, but without the disappointment of a hook up.

So, phone sex. Obviously.

Despite a quick shot of whisky, he felt ridiculous. Here he was, a twenty-nine year old, grade A piece of certified man meat, and he was paying to get off. Dean may love strip clubs,  but he never paid to get off.

Until now, that is.

The line crackled to life, sexy saxophone music ending abruptly. “Heavenly Flirts, America’s favorite adult phone service, Chuck speaking. Would you like to speak with a man or a woman?” Whoever Chuck was he sounded like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Sexual tension between Spock and Kirk fresh in his mind, Dean chose, “A man, uh, please.”

“Alright, I can connect you with one of our experienced male operators in a moment. I’ll just need to collect your payment information.” Dean heard the rattle of Chuck’s keyboard as he answered his questions, not looking forward to seeing Heavenly Flirts on his credit card statement. “Do you have any requests, Mr. Winchester?”

“Um, requests?”

“You know, any preferences or kinks. Do you like blondes, role playing, humiliation fantasies, diaper pl-”

“You can stop there,” Dean was already regretting this. Diaper play? Really? “Just the plain stuff, you know?”

“That’s cool,” Chuck replied, soothing. “Vanilla’s classic for a reason, man. You sit tight for a few more seconds and I’ll get you started.”

The sexy saxophone music was back, and Dean was tempted to hang up right then and there. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this. He was just a regular Joe, a bisexual regular Joe, but still a regular Joe. Of his many talents - encompassing picking up pretty men and women, restoring classic cars, and a vast knowledge of urban myths - phone sex did not need to be one of them. He started moving toward the phone cradle, ready to hang up the cordless when the music cut out.

“Hello, this is James.” Except no, he wasn’t. That voice belonged to Batman or John McClane or Dr. Sexy. That voice was the star of every sexual fantasy he was too stupid not to have had. The idea that this was a waste of time and money went right out the window when Dean heard the gravelly lows, the pleasant scrape, of that voice.

Already getting hard, Dean cleared his throat nervously. “Hi, uh, James. My name is, um, my name’s Dean.” Real smooth, no really. Cary Grant will be calling any moment for some pointers because Dean Winchester is the biggest schmuck to have ever schmucked. There was a reason Dean preferred face to face interactions; nobody paid any attention to what was coming out of his mouth when all he had to do was smile and be the handsome bastard he knew he was. “I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before.”

James chuckled, if something that erotic can even be called a chuckle. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Dean. I’m glad you called me.”

Dean blamed the whiskey, not his own lonely life, for the brief warmth he felt. The man was a phone sex operator, of course he said that to every guy that dialed in. “Guess I’m supposed to ask you what you’re wearing, then, huh?”

Dean could hear a shifting on James’s end, like he was settling down in a bed. “And I guess I’m supposed to tell you that I’m wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and a smile, but you seem like a man that appreciates honesty. I just got home, so I’m still in my suit and tie. Black suit, blue tie. The boxer briefs are, of course, underneath.”

Without realizing it, Dean had gotten up and been pacing. “Really? A suit sounds damn fine to me, James. What do you look like?” Maybe the phone really had been a bad idea ‘cause Dean wanted nothing more than to see this rocky-voiced man. Too late, though. He didn’t dream of stopping now.

“I have lean muscle, a round ass, full lips,” he seemed to pause for a moment, and when he spoke again there was a note of hesitation different from the rehearsed ease of before, “dark brown hair, blue eyes, stubble, and I’m just shy of six feet tall.”

Dean let out a hum of appreciation. “Pity we’re only doing this over the phone, isn’t it? But your voice more than makes up for it.” His pacing had brought him to his bedroom, and he fumbled in his bedside table for lube before laying back on his bed. “Do you moan, James? Would you beg for me when I bend you over?”

Again, there was a moment of silence, a brief pause where James made a decision. “No,” he said, so firmly that Dean stopped unbuttoning his jeans. “No, because I don’t think you want that. I think you’re the type that tops because you’re big and handsome. You sound handsome, Dean. Uncertain, but handsome. Men, and probably women, sleep with you and assume, so you go along with it because you’re used to control, being big and handsome. But you want to lose control, don’t you Dean?”

He hadn’t even unbuttoned his jeans and Dean was harder than he’d been in years. “Yes,” he breathed. “God, yes. How’d you know?”

James didn’t answer, only continued, his voice almost a growl. “I can help you lose control. I’ll tie you to my bed frame with the tie I’m wearing. I’ll make you watch, unable to do anything, while I strip for you, nice and slow until _you’ll_ be the one begging for _me_.”

Dean sputtered to life, nearly ripping his boxers off with the jeans. Applying a liberal amount of lube to his palm he started touching himself. “What then, James?”

“Then I’ll take my time. I’ll start by kissing you so hard your lips will be bruised and swollen. I’ll whisper everything I’m going to do to you while I trace the inside of your ear with my tongue. I will suck my way down to your collarbone, leaving marks you’ll have a hard time explaining away. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being marked by me?” Dean tightened his grip on the base of his dick, precome already shining at the tip, and moaned James’s name.

Again, that chuckle, but this time it was so filthy Dean felt himself becoming more undone. “I’ll take your nipple in between my teeth, hard enough so you moan my name like you just did. Then I’ll work my way down, licking and sucking so slowly that you’ll be begging again. I want to hear you beg, Dean. Can you do that for me?” It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed the ragged edge to James’s voice. Could he be enjoying this just as much as Dean was?

“Please, James,” Dean whimpered, loving the thrill of submission. “I need you to touch me, I want to feel you so badly I can’t even think. I want you to fuck me. Oh God, please.”

“Patience, Dean, not yet,” James responded in a broken voice. “I want to taste you first. I won’t make you wait for that, though. I’ll take you so deeply you’ll think you’re in heaven. My lips will look so good wrapped around your cock, and I’ll be so warm and wet. And while I’m choking on your long, hard cock, I’ll start opening you up. I bet you have a tight, little ass, Dean, don’t you? Can you finger yourself for me?”

Shouldering the phone, Dean moved his lube-slick hand down and replaced it with his newly free hand. He hadn’t fingered himself in months, and when he slid the first finger home he couldn’t hold back the low groan that dragged from his mouth. Hearing James’s breath hitch made it all the more sweet when he brushed his prostate. “Oh, James! I’m so fucking tight. Christ, I need you to fuck me right now. Please, James, please let me come around your cock!"

The noise that James made couldn’t be human it was so unbelievably sexy. He was breathing more heavily when he continued, “Yes, Dean! I’ll slide into your tight ass and you’ll feel so good around me, won’t you? I’ll fuck you nice and hard, Dean. I want you to feel me for weeks, to never forget how good I make you feel.”

“I’m so close, James! I’m so close!” was all Dean could manage before he was too lost to function, only able to continue his frantic movements while he cursed and moaned into the phone.

  
He could almost feel it, being pounded into the mattress by this gorgeous man. There was the scratch of stubble on his cheek and hot breath in his ear and hands gripping him tightly. He wanted it to be real - Christ, did he want it to be real - so badly that he could practically see James’s blue eyes. A wild thought sprung into his mind. Without breaking his movements, still dangling so close to the edge, he asked, “Are you touching yourself?” His tone was more urgent than he had meant, but that didn’t stop him from continuing. “Are you imagining that your palm’s my ass, James?”

A strangled sound was his answer, all articulation gone. “I - fuck - yes, Dean! I’m so hard for you, so close for you.” And by the slapping sounds he heard in the background, Dean knew he wasn’t lying.

And that was it. Dean couldn’t possibly hold on after that image, this (supposedly) handsome man so hard he just had to touch himself. His orgasm rushed at him, quick and brutal, making him shout “James!” and see not only stars, but entire fucking constellations. Over the phone he could hear James’s answering cry as he came, Dean’s name tumbling off his lips over and over.

And then there was the near quiet of their labored breathing. Dean didn’t know how long it lasted, but he was content to relax and let it calm his rushing thoughts until he could speak again. “Fuck,” he said because apparently he was the mayor of awkward post-phone-coital comedowns, “that was ridiculously hot.”

He was rewarded with a laugh, low and breathy. “Thank you, Dean. That was ...amazing doesn’t really cover it.”

“Hey,” lying there in his own rapidly cool cum, Dean suddenly felt foolish, “would you mind if I called you again?” He pushed back the embarrassment. He’d just had one of the best orgasms in his life and another person didn’t even touch him There was no way he wasn’t going to ask if it could happen again.

  
“Of course, Dean. I’d really like that.” Maybe Dean imagined the intake of breath, the false start, but he didn’t imagine James saying, “And my name’s Castiel. My real name, that is,” before hanging up and leaving Dean in silence.


End file.
